


I'm a teenage dirtbag baby (like you)

by Nakimochiku



Series: 30 Lives and Chances [5]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakimochiku/pseuds/Nakimochiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren has a very large crush on his sophomore tutor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a teenage dirtbag baby (like you)

Marco texts him fifteen minutes before spare.  _Cleaning up the gym equipment is taking longer than expected_ , he says. A few seconds later, another message buzzes through. _Meet me in the senior change room and we can walk to the library together._ He even tagged a little smiley face on the end. Eren isn’t even sure what he’s more excited by. The chance to see Marco all mussed after gym? The fact that Marco texted him first? He hurries to his locker to gather his books and makes the trek across the school to the gym section.

It stinks of sweat and rubber covered up by copious amounts of cheap body spray. Eren’s nose wrinkles, and he peeks into the senior change room just as another student is exiting, leaving it quiet. “Marco?” he tries, and pops his head around the corner to find Marco wiping his hair down with a hand towel, shirt tossed over his shoulder. “If you’re not ready I can just go on ahead—“

“No, come sit. There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Marco leans against a partition wall, tossing his towel over his other shoulder. Eren slips in, tucks his books next to Marco’s back pack. He has freckles right down his chest, gathered around his dark brown nipples, decorating the dips of his hips and pelvis. Eren feels his mouth go dry, and he forcibly draws his eyes back up to Marco’s face, and is somewhat jarred to find his expression serious, no hint of his friendly smile anywhere.

“What’s wrong?”

“I had a talk with Miss Hanji.” Eren flinches, and Marco’s mouth turns down a notch. “You’ve been seeing me for about two months, but she says you haven’t made much improvement at all in biology. And I haven’t been able to talk with Mr Smith about your math mark, but I’m sure it’s the same story right?” Eren looks away guiltily, finding a string on his shirt to fiddle with. “If I’m not a good enough tutor, we can always find you someone—“

“No!” Eren interrupts, voice resounding off the concrete of the change rooms. He chews on his next words, decides rationally to fuck it all, and says, “I don’t want anyone else but you.”

Marco watches him, runs his tongue over his teeth, and then sighs through his nose. He tosses his shirt and towel aside, grabs Eren by the collar, dragging him up so that they’re pressed chest to chest. “I didn’t wanna have to do this, but you’ve given me no choice.” He whirls them both around and shoves Eren backwards into one of the unused shower stalls, sliding the lock shut behind them.

“What--?” Eren gasps. Marco’s palm on his belly keeps him pinned against the tiles, an intense look in his caramel eyes that Eren didn’t know he wanted on him till now. “Marco—“

“Miss Hanji says you have a test in a week and a half.” He leans down to say the words against his ear, swiping his tongue against the shell; leans farther down still to mouth at Eren’s throat, lips playing at his pulse. “I want to see a five percent increase in your grade this time, Eren.” His name sounds so hot on Marco’s tongue, he moans out a pathetic sound, nervously sliding his hands over Marco’s smooth brown skinned shoulders. “So I’m gonna throw a little incentive your way.”

Eren doesn’t ask what Marco means as he sinks to his knees before him, pushing his shirt up to kiss his way down his belly, sinking his teeth in, sucking hard hickies that leave marks he knows he’s going to treasure as long as he has them. He moans aloud, voice lewd and echoing in the little stall, Marco’s hands hot on his hips. He pops the button on his fly and tugs his jeans half way down his thighs, letting his half hard cock flop out. Eren squeaks when Marco takes it in his hand, biting down hard on his thumb. They only have a few minutes before the bell for next period rings, someone is bound to hear them.

But Marco doesn’t appear to give a damn, jerking his fist over Eren’s hardening cock, sucking kisses to the jut of his pelvic bone. His wrist twists deliciously, Eren’s eyes flutter shut, his free hand daringly moving down to touch Marco’s soft dark hair, purring behind his hand between his teeth. Marco hasn’t even really done anything to him yet, pulling back the foreskin to swipe his thumb over the sensitive head. “Marco…” he murmurs.

Marco looks up at him playfully, gripping just short of too hard at the base. “Now’s not the time to make any noise. Next time you can cry all you want. So be quiet.” Eren nods slowly, and watches with baited breath as Marco’s tongue slides leisurely up his cock, sucking a kiss just under the head. A muffled whimper escapes him, watching Marco’s wet tongue lavish the head of his cock with attention, sucking noisy kisses all over it until at last he takes it in his mouth. Eren gives a weak wail, both hands in Marco’s hair now, unsure if he wants to pull him away or pull him closer.

He works his tongue over the underside, draws up to swirl his tongue around the head, obscene noises joining the moans Eren can’t restrain in the air. His chin grows wet with escaped saliva as he bobs up and down, hollowing his cheeks when he draws back so that the suction leaves Eren weak in the knees,  gasping out Marco’s praises. “shh.” Marco reminds softly.

Eren doesn’t care any more, throwing his head back against the tiles when Marco takes him all the way into his mouth, to his throat, fingers digging into his thighs and nose brushing soft dark curls at the base of his cock. He makes a wet gagging noise when Eren’s hips jerk forward, one hand moving up to his hip to hold him there. Eren keens to feel Marco’s throat swallowing around his cock, all tight wet heat that threatens to short his every nerve. Marco pulls up again, watches him with darkened eyes and scrapes his teeth just beneath the head, tongue soothing just after it.

“C-can I--?” he moans raggedly, fingers tracing down around Marco’s jaw. He smiles and nods, takes Eren’s cock into his mouth again eagerly, and sliding up and down with his mouth until Eren sees stars, sees god, orgasm coiling in his belly and erupting from him in a hot wave that fills Marco’s mouth with cum, which he obligingly swallows. Eren moans weakly as Marco wipes his slick mouth on the back of his hand and stands. He feels like he’s made of jello, and it’s only Marco’s weight pressing him to the wall that keeps him standing. “Can I blow you next time?” he asks, voice wavering and unsure.

Marco grins at him, kissing the tip of his nose. “Get five percent higher on your biology test, and I’ll think about it.” His voice is wrecked and roughened, from taking him to his throat no doubt, and heat flushes all throughout Eren’s body as he thinks _I did that_. “This was just incentive. The more you improve, the more rewards you’ll get.” He diligently straightens Eren out, zips his jeans tries to smooth the rumples from Eren’s shirt. There’s nothing to be done about his glazed post coital expression though, and Marco smirks smugly, shooing him out of the stall just as the bell rings.

“One more thing.” Eren turns and studies Marco, still shirtless, lips moist and plump and reddened, the slight out line of a hard on in his gym shorts. “How did you know I--?”

“Eren, please.” Marco interrupts, and smiles deviously, flashing dimples. “Cute kid like you? I was dying to get my hands on you.” A spark of arousal sears down Eren’s spine, but he can’t do anything more as a flood of senior boys come in to change for their gym class. Eren flicks one last glance at Marco over his shoulder, hugs his textbooks to his chest, and brushes past the students coming in. It occurs to him as he tugs self-consciously at his clothes, his hair, that Mikasa was wrong.

Marco isn’t quite the good influence she hoped he was.


End file.
